


Ossify

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [227]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, First Kiss, Love at First Sight, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 21:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7377208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ossify: verb: AH-suh-fye: 	to become or make hardened or set in one's ways</p>
<p>early 18th century: from French ossifier, from Latin os, oss- ‘bone.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ossify

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dabsmom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dabsmom/gifts).



He wondered if it was possible to ossify before the age of forty. He had seen it happen to his father, but he had already been hardened by the time John knew him, had never known him to be soft. John had been determined never to become him; angry, stuck, powerless to do anything with his life. He thought he had escaped it, first by fleeing the small town to attend Uni in London, then Medical School, finally to the military where he had done some good, thought he had done some good until he was injured, found to be useless -

"Sorry, mind if I sit?" A tall, sleek, angular man looked down at him, younger, and yet his eyes were older than they should have been, had seen too much perhaps. John nodded at the place next to him on the bench and took another sip of the lukewarm, overly sweetened coffee.

"Got your order wrong?"

"Hmmm?"

"You made a face when you took a sip, I hate those chain shops, they never recognise anyone, even if you go in every day at the same time, they spell your name wrong, well, I guess they have an excuse getting mine wrong, as it's unusual, but still, I've seen them spell 'John' wrong..."

"This morning, they forgot the 'h' and added at least three too many sugars."

"Why drink it then?" The man next to him muttered.

"Uhm, why? I don't know, because it's something to do."

"Do you even like coffee?"

"No. Not in particular."

"Then why - ?"

"I got used to drinking gallons of it in Med School, and even more on my tours of duty. I've forgotten what a good cup of tea tastes like, I don't even know if my taste buds still work anymore."

"Do you want to find out?"

"Hmm?"

"I make a decent cuppa, well, my landlady does."

John turned and looked at the unusual man next to him for a long moment, the tired eyes were blue - hmmm...greenish, no...haze - oh whatever colour they were, they were grinning at him. He didn't know eyes could grin, but his were.

"Sherlock Holmes." He took off a black leather glove, exposing long acid-scarred fingers. John took the offered hand in his, and felt them both tremble.

"John Watson. Tea sounds lovely. Been a long time since anyone..." He fell silent, and the man next to him didn't push. John grabbed his cane; binned the unwanted coffee and fell into step with Sherlock, or rather, after a bit, Sherlock somehow matched John's odd shorter-legged hobble, and they made their way slowly to the flat.

"Mrs. Hudson, John Watson - he's in need of your fabulous tea."

"Sherlock..." Mrs. Hudson looked at the pair of them; a former soldier, invalided home, and the son she never had, at last had found a friend, possibly more. "...not your housekeeper, but just this once. John, a pleasure, please, come in, dear."

"...and biscuits...chocolate? Please?" Sherlock's words drifted down to her and she smiled; she knew how important this tea was by the simple added politeness.

A few moments later, she opened the door to 221B to find John settled in a chair that seemed to belong to him while Sherlock stood at the window playing an actual piece of music for once. She placed the tray on the coffee table and poured out his tea.

"Just a splash of milk, yes?"

John nodded, looking up in surprise.

"I've poured a lot of cuppas dear."

Sherlock played through her entrance, then spoke without turning. "He's interested in the extra bedroom, I've warned him of my foibles, doesn't seem to mind too much."

"Good, that's nice, dear." John heard something in her voice and almost turned towards her to ask, but caught Sherlock watching him curiously, and he continued to sip his tea.

"You're right."

"About?"

"It is a fabulous cuppa."

Sherlock smiled at him, and something in John's heart melted, at the very least thawed a bit. Oh. God. There it is, my heart is standing there in front of me, smiling at me. How -

Mrs. Hudson felt the room change suddenly, and she left silently.

Sherlock placed his violin and bow back into its case and walked over to John's chair and knelt in front of him."This is not normally my area, people, relationships, uhm...whatever just happened, but, I -"

John reached out to push a curl from Sherlock's eyes and nodded. "I'm not good at this either, how about we just see what happens?" Then he saw the look in the blueishgolden - what the hell- and pulled him into a kiss. He was rusty, but felt Sherlock melt against him, and knew he was home.


End file.
